Just Breathe
by Nevillefan
Summary: Secrets long kept. Desperation and fear. Love above anger. What will it take to make you finally follow your heart? Follow your instincts and just breathe.
1. 12 Grimmauld Place

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I wish I did, but I don't. This story was written Pre-HBP.

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**Just Breathe  
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Chapter 1 : 12 Grimmauld Place

Hermione had wanted to stay with her parents. With the oncoming war she did not like the idea of being away from them for such a length of time as the summer holidays. It was bad enough being away from them for an entire school year. She felt that, though she was not extremely experienced at dueling, she would have provided at least a little magical protection which was more than they had right now. They needed her.

However, her parents were more concerned with their daughter's protection than they were about their own and felt it better for Hermione to stay in the company of the Weasley's. She missed her muggle parents terribly and hated leaving them completely defenseless against possible Death Eaters while she sat in captive safety.

They were stuck at number twelve, Grimmauld Place _again_ for another two months until it was time to return to school. Hermione lounged lazily on a dusty, moth eaten sofa in the drawing room daydreaming. Only three weeks into the summer holidays and she already wanted to leave the house. Six more weeks to go. It was still early morning and probably gorgeous outside. Not that she would be able to enjoy it. She was beginning to have a glimmer of what it was like for Sirius to be forced to hide for so long in this horrible house.

Hermione felt her stomach twist painfully at the thought of Sirius and tried not to think about the incident at the Ministry. She found it hard to believe that less than a month ago Sirius Black had probably been laying on this very couch…only to have wasted it all by falling into a mysterious veil of death. She yelled at herself internally for having the selfish nerve to compare her current bored state to Sirius, of all people. _At least I have friends here with me on a regular basis_, she thought. _At least I didn't have to grow up in this dreadful house and be raised by that awful, screaming woman…no wonder Sirius ran away from home when he was sixteen…_

As if the old bat's painting in the hall had read her thoughts, the ring of the doorbell broke the pleasant morning silence and the horrible shrieks of Sirius's mother filled the entire house. "FILTH! MUDBLOODS!" Hermione heard the door to the kitchen slam shut. "YOU! ABNORMAL HALFBREED MUTANT FREAK OF MAGIC! HOW DARE YOU DEFILE THE NOBLE HOUSE OF BLACK! TRAITORS, ALL OF YOU! GET OUT OF MY HOUSE! AND YOU, YOU TRAITOR TO THE DARK LORD! YOUR FEEBLE ATTEMPTS WILL FAIL, BLOOD TRAITOR!"

Hermione covered her ears to muffle the painting's wrath and walked through the drawing room door to the landing to see which visitor it would be this time. Remus Lupin was busy trying to draw the curtains back over Mrs. Black's portrait to silence her without having much luck. She did not bother trying to help him. The old woman in the painting seemed to sense Hermione's muggle blood and it tended to make things worse.

Instead, she turned her eyes toward the front door to see Professor Snape walking lazily up and down the hall stunning the other portraits before they had a chance to wake and begin screaming as well. He looked very odd in a dark navy suit and gray tie, no doubt on business for the Order.

Snape felt her eyes curiously taking in the sight of him in muggle clothing and turned his cold black eyes onto her. His lips curled into a sneer as Hermione quickly ducked back inside the dusty room.

She wished Harry could be there with her, or someone who would appreciate hearing about Snape having been caught in the latest muggle fashions. Having none of Fred and George's extendable ears to listen in with, Hermione did not bother to try to discover the latest Order business. It was pointless anyway. Mrs. Weasley had begun putting a silencing spell on the door whenever there was business to be discussed. So instead she resigned herself to collapse back to the sofa, sending a fresh cloud of dust into the already stale air. The highlight of her day was seeing Professor Severus Snape decked out in full muggle clothing. What could possibly happen to make the day even more dull?

After a couple minutes of waiting for Snape to clear out, which felt more like an hour or two had passed, Hermione risked another peek from the landing. She was in luck and found the hall empty. Ron was still sleeping and she supposed Ginny was in the kitchen. For a second she thought of visiting the kitchen herself but thought different, as there was a possibility Snape could be down there as well. _I'd rather starve_, she thought miserably. Needing something to keep her occupied, she silently crept upstairs, taking care not to wake the sleeping Mrs. Black.

Mrs. Weasley had yet to assign the day's chores and she had already read all the musty old books in the house and this year's assigned school books and had run out of yarn for her knitting. Bored stiff, she looked around for somebody to talk with. Hoping she was wrong and that Ginny was in their bedroom, she stuck her head inside and found the room to be vacant (unless you counted the mirror that talked back to you).

She decided to look in on Ron to see if he was awake yet. Not surprisingly, he still lay in bed snoring lightly. She walked into the room hoping her presence would rouse him. He continued to snore. She walked in closer to the bed not bothering to step softly, letting her shoes hit the floor with loud taps. Ron stirred but continued sleeping.

"Oh, honestly, Ron," she said aloud, hoping he would hear her, "I told you not to stay up so late." He stirred again and turned over to his back but did not open his eyes…and the annoying sputtered gurgling sounds emitting from his nasal passages grew louder.

Sighing in defeat, she was about to turn away and head to the kitchen, despite Snape, but found her eyes lingering on Ron's sleeping face. She had seen him in his pajamas before but never really looked at him sleeping. His face was relaxed, almost innocent looking (she laughed quietly at the thought of Ron having an innocent bone in his body). His red hair was messy and his pajama top had pulled up a bit revealing part of his stomach.

Hermione felt her face grow hot. She turned away from him and tried to push the thoughts from her mind but was not being very successful. She had told herself a long time ago not to think about things like that. Ron was a friend and he had made it clear he wanted it kept that way.

Finally, Ron stirred a third time, with the assistance of an abnormally loud snore, and cracked open his eyes. "Hermione?" his sleep-filled voice croaked out and he rubbed his eyes to wipe away the bleariness.

Hermione, startled, took a calming breath and tried to force her face to return to normal temperature before turning back around to him. Almost immediately, she wished she hadn't. He was incredibly cute with is bed-hair sticking up on one side and rumpled pajama collar… She felt her face going red again.

She turned away from him again and stated simply, "Time to get up," and walked briskly from the bedroom before Ron could protest the intrusion.


	2. Hedwig's Visit

Chapter 2 : Hedwig's Visit

All through breakfast, Hermione avoided eye contact with Ron. She was afraid that if she did catch his eye she would go all red again and he would notice. More questions could only follow if that were to happen. She knew it was irrational plan of action, but for the time being, silence seemed to be working. Thankfully, they were alone at the kitchen table for the moment.

Ron watched Hermione from the corner of his eye as she sat next to him, staring at her plate as if waiting for it to do something interesting. He hadn't noticed her flushed face but he did notice that she was slightly ignoring him. Between his rude wake up call and this cold shoulder she was giving he wondered what he had done now to make her angry with him. Silently, he watched her poking at her breakfast without taking a bite, fixing her plate with a blank stare.

"Erm..." Clearing his throat, he tried again at conversation, "Have you heard from Harry lately?"

"No," she said sadly and stabbed pointlessly at her scrambled egg with a fork, engrossed in her own thoughts.

"Oh. Neither have I." When she said nothing more, he stuffed his mouth with sausages and chewed while thinking up a new topic to break the awkward silence.

_What am I going to do?_ Hermione asked herself. _I can't love Ron. I just can't, I won't. I told myself not to do this and I will listen to myself_, she tried to reason with herself, still stabbing at her egg. _I like being around him, that's all. That's the only reason I'm sitting here right now. He is my friend and I'm insanely bored. He's not my type. All that red hair... He doesn't even fancy me like that anyway. He is my friend. Just a friend. I'm not in my right mind…yes, that's it. Cabin fever, they call it. That will do this sort of thing, right? I'm with Viktor anyway. What would he say if he knew what was going on?_

Her egg had now been reduced to yellow mush.

_I've never felt this way about Viktor though. Viktor is charming and sweet…but Ron—well, Ron doesn't know the meaning of charming—but he has always been there for me (except when we bicker, that is) and he does have his good moments. I've spent the past five years straight with Ron, including the last two summers now. When was the last time I heard from Viktor? I haven't seen him in a year now but we still send owls to each other. That counts, right? However, he's so far away and Ron's right here._

She began absentmindedly mixing her yellow mush with the plate's other contents. _I definitely never got that hollow pit in my stomach with Viktor as I do with Ron. I've felt this way about Ron for a long time but he's never given me any indication he feels the same way. Maybe I have to spell it out for him.... Nevertheless, I can't do that. It's not right. He is my friend. Just a friend._

"Did you get the Daily Prophet yet, Hermione?" Ron's voice broke into her fascination with the mess on her plate.

"No I haven't, Ron," she replied curtly, still immersed in her own thoughts.

She saw Ron wince slightly at her angry tone and she regretted taking her frustration out on him, but she couldn't very well tell him what she was upset about either.

"Um, have you heard from Krum lately?" Ron said delicately out of nowhere. Ron knew she hadn't received any owls from him in a long time and thought this might be why she was being so irritable this morning.

Hermione could feel the tears beginning to well inside her. Did he know what she was thinking? How could he have? She didn't want to cry and this seemed to be a very silly thing to cry about in the first place, but for some reason she couldn't seem to find a way to stop it from happening. Feeling very embarrassed and confused about the whole thing, she needed to get away. Not wanting to completely lose her failing composure in front of Ron, she jumped from her chair and ran upstairs to the bedroom that she and Ginny shared.

Ron sat staring after her, bewildered. He did catch her teary eyes but wasn't sure if he should go after her or not. He decided the answer was no. If she was going to act the complete nutter then he didn't want involved.

~*~

It stayed like that for three whole days, neither of the two talking. Ginny had tried to find out what was going on but Hermione stayed silent about the entire issue.

Having no desire to be seen by Ron again, Hermione had skipped dinner by saying she didn't feel well. Mrs. Weasley fussed over touching her forehead for sign of fever but Hermione insisted she just wasn't hungry. Therefore, she sat hungry and alone on her bed in her nightdress and waited for Ginny to come up and join her. As the room grew darker, she lit some candles beside her and Ginny's beds, casting and weak and flickering orange light over the dingy room.

Not feeling sleepy at all, Hermione pulled off her covers and went to watch the city from the window. London always looked so lively and bright at night time, a time when things were supposed to be winding down and sleeping. At a time when things were meant to be calm, this was a city that never slept and Hermione's only experience of it was watching it from a grubby window.

Wishing she could be out of this house led her to thinking about what Harry was doing right now, and her mind began to wander to his birthday. It would be coming next week and had yet to find him a suitable present. Maybe tomorrow she would ask Mrs. Weasley if she could leave the house to shop at Diagon Alley. Mrs. Weasley would, of course, insist on accompanying her. She was nearly seventeen and thought she could handle it alone but she knew how protective Mrs. Weasley was of the children.

Hermione's thoughts of escape were interrupted by a small black dot that appeared far off in the darkened sky. At first she thought she was imagining it but the as the dot grew bigger she could see wings flapping. Eventually, the moonlight showed the black dot with wings to be a beautiful white snowy owl.

"Hedwig!" she smiled at the bird that she knew to belong to Harry and backed away from the window. With the owl sitting on the windowsill, Hermione quickly untied the letter from around Hedwig's leg. Hermione stroked the bird's feathers affectionately and allowed the owl entrance to the room. Hedwig made herself at home by hopping down to the bedside cabinet to help herself to Hermione's glass of water then promptly flew to the top of the wardrobe. She opened the envelope and inside laid a sample of Harry's messy handwriting.

_To everybody there, _

_All is good here. Wish I were there with you, though. My family wishes I were too. Have you received your O.W.L. results yet? Still waiting anxiously to see my own results. Look to hear from you soon!_

The letter was unsigned and, as usual, was void of specifics and names in case the letter was intercepted. Everything in their letters these days was very vague but Hermione knew Harry to mean, "No Voldemort problems yet, how are you?" and that was the most important thing. It was short but said what needed said. Ever since Hedwig had been attacked last year while delivering a message, they had become even more cautious of what they put inside letters.

"Well, Hedwig, you may as well stay here for the night. I want to get Harry's present tomorrow if you wouldn't mind taking it back with you." She reached up to stroke the bird and Hedwig nipped at her finger gently. She took this as consent.

There was a soft knock at the closed door. Without waiting for an answer, Ron let himself inside her bedroom and closed the door behind him. There was a faint clicking sound and Ron looked up to see Hedwig on top of the wardrobe nipping at her feathers.

"She just got here," Hermione offered, quickly handing him Harry's letter.

"Um…thanks," he replied uncomfortably.

She noticed Ron's ears had turned a bright shade of red and he was looking at her peculiarly. Her cheeks flushed as she realized she was only in a thin, summer nightdress. She hastily made a grab for her fluffy pink dressing gown and pulled it tight around her in attempt to hide whatever it was that had caught Ron's attention.

Ron's embarrassed distraction now reduced, he read the letter but didn't say anything about it. He stared at the small bit of parchment with unseeing eyes, not really knowing what to say. Harry wasn't exactly the reason he had come to see her.

He felt her staring expectantly at him. "Er… Hermione?" he began cautiously.

"Yes, Ron?" she replied sharply.

"What's up with you lately?" his voice raised in returning anger. He hadn't wanted this to turn into another row but he couldn't help what blurted from his mouth. "For some reason you bite my head off at breakfast and then completely ignore me for three days! I can't stand this, Hermione. It's not my fault Krum's not writing you--"

"Don't be thick, Ron, Viktor has nothing to do with this!" she lied loudly.

"Then what is it?" he asked just as loudly, his ears going red.

"That's my business! You wouldn't understand. I've been trying to tell you for four years now, I don't see why you'd suddenly wake up and get it. I'm just second choice to you anyhow so it wouldn't really matter to you even if I did tell you!" She knew she was rambling but she was too upset at him to speak anything other than nonsense.

"What?" Ron asked angrily having no idea what her incoherent rant had meant. "What's that supposed to mean?" Ron stepped toward her. With his long legs, he managed to cross the room in only a couple steps.

"Oh, never mind about it." She was talking about the particularly large row they had in their forth year over Viktor Krum asking her to the Yule Ball, but doubted Ron even remembered. She remembered quite enough for the both of them. "I was just as thick thinking you might actually have--" Hermione cut herself off before she could say anything more incriminating.

"What? That I might actually care that you're upset about something?" He took another step toward her, now only about two feet away.

Hermione felt his close presence. Granted, they had been even closer physically before this. She could remember sitting next to him at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, their elbows touching, and him whispering in her ear in the library. Even back then, her stomach would twist into knots, but now it felt different to have him this close to her. It had changed somehow. Hermione felt warm all over suddenly and didn't know why; however, Ron was awfully close to her and in what a girl might think was a romantically dimly lit room. His face half hidden in shadow, the faint candle lighting the rest in the seductive dance of a flame... She thought for a second that Ron was looking at her in a different way than he ever had, but quickly pushed it away and decided it was only her imagination. She bitterly chidded herself for allowing fantasy to cloud her reality.

"I might not understand you, Hermione, but I know you well enough to recognize when something's bothering you," his voice was soft now. "…I know I've done something and you won't tell me. Or else you've found out that I...I wish you'd tell me."

"You haven't done anything, Ron," she sighed heavily, "that's part of the problem." She tried to look away to something other than him but only found blank walls fallen in darkness. She felt his warm hazel eyes burn into her, expecting her to continue. "Have you ever loved someone knowing full well that they didn't feel the same way to you?"

She had expected him to laugh at her but instead he said in a very serious tone, "Yes, I have."

This answer surprised her enough for her to look away from the wall and up into his hazel eyes. Indeed, it might have been her imagination but Hermione seemed to notice a peculiar softness to his eyes, a glimer of something she had not found there before.

"Why?" he asked.

Hermione guessed that he must have thought she was talking about Viktor. She searched his eyes trying to figure out what he was thinking before giving too much information. Not wanting to say the wrong thing she elected not to answer at all.

Instead, Ron took another half a step closer to her, still keeping her gaze. He took her hand in his, "Hermione, I—"

They heard the door creak open and in walked Ginny. Immediately, they both jumped back in surprise. Hermione felt the blood rush to her face again and an open-mouthed Ginny saw Ron's scarlet ears and cheeks as he walked hurriedly past her out of the room without a word.

Ginny, still in the doorframe, let Crookshanks come through before closing the door behind her. "I am so sorry, Hermione. I had no idea. Mum sent me to look in on you before bed. She was worried about you being ill, but you certainly didn't look very ill to me just then. But goodness, you do now…"

Hermione, now blanched pale, had removed her fluffy pink dressing gown, crawled back into bed with her nervous stomach twisting in nauseating knots, and pulled the covers over her head, wanting to hide from the world. She felt her bed sink when Ginny sat down at the end of the mattress.

"Oh, my awful timing, Hermione, I am so sorry."

Ginny heard a small whimper from under the blankets. After a few seconds Hermione sat up, letting the blankets fall to her lap. "It's okay, Ginny. Your timing was perfect actually, before I made a complete git out of myself!"

"Oh, I don't know. It looked pretty promising from my side," Ginny said giggling. Hermione groaned lying back down and throwing her face into her hands. "Is this what you've been so upset about lately?"

Hermione muttered something from under her hands. She sat back up. "Ron's not my _only_ problem."

"Problem? Ron's a problem? I thought you would have—ah, right. Krum. You're still with him?"

Hermione shrugged her shoulders and nodded slightly in an unsure confirmation.

"Look, Krum's a really nice guy—a little strange, but nice—and I know Ron gets on your nerves all the time, but when did you last hear from him? Let alone see him? He's so far away and busy with Quidditch."

"But I feel like I'm betraying him. You're right, though, about not seeing him anymore." Hermione took another great sigh. "I don't know what to think anymore."

"Don't they usually say absence makes the heart grow fonder?"

"Or forgetful. What if…what if I'm the only one who's forgetting and he's actually growing fonder?"

Ginny shrugged and got up to get into her own nightdress. "So send him an owl asking what's going on."

"Or worse! What if I write and he's totally forgotten about me? That would be too embarrassing. I can just see the look on his face when he gets an owl from some little bird he doesn't even remember." Ignoring Ginny's comment about Hermione going completely mad, a note of panic crept into her voice, "Or even worse! What if he still thinks we're together and I break up with him in a letter. How would you feel if you received a breakup _letter_? Oh, no, Ginny, I don't think I could do that." Hermione was near tears by now.

"Well you can't very well fellytone him now can you? And I don't think Mum would allow any trips to Bulgaria."

Hermione laughed at her misnaming the muggle convenience but didn't bother correcting her. "No, I suppose not."

"Then you and Ron could finally get past this little barrier you've got between you," Ginny said after pulling her nightdress over her head.

Hermione turned up a questioning eyebrow.

"Oh please, Hermione. Don't tell me you can't see it with your own eyes. Do you see how angry he gets whenever you mention Krum? He's terribly jealous. I know he is a bit thick sometimes but I see the way he looks at you when you're not looking back." Ginny crawled into her own covers. "Look, Hermione, I don't want to tell you what to do with your love life but you're going to have to contact Krum sooner or later."

"I know. I know you're right, but what will I say?"

"I can try to help if you want," Ginny offered.

Hermione grinned, "Thanks, I'll need all the support I can get. Do you know where he is now?" She knew Ginny followed professional Quidditch better than she did.

"No. Ron would know, but I don't think it'd be a good idea to ask him about anything concerning Bulgaria. There's a shop in Diagon Alley that would know."

"Hey, I was going to ask your mum if I could go to Diagon Alley tomorrow. I have to get Harry's present anyway. Do you want to come if we can?"

"Sure!" Ginny let out more enthusiasm than she meant to but it got the idea across. She would be just as eager to get out of this horrible house as Hermione was.

They blew out their candles but Hermione did not find sleep until late in the night.


	3. Diagon Alley

Chapter 3 : Diagon Alley

Early the next morning Nymphadora Tonks, volunteered by Mrs. Weasley, was walking to Diagon Alley with Hermione, Ginny, and Ron. They hadn't counted on Ron being there with them and it was making things more than a little uncomfortable with his unidentifiably strange behavior. At least today it was strained civility instead of complete silence as it had been the day before. Apparently, he had begun his day with quite the grumpy morning and it seemed best to Mrs. Weasley to get Ron out of the house while she had the chance.

Afraid the Floo Network was still being watched by Death Eaters, they decided to take the muggle route with trains and walking. Hermione had leant Ginny some of her clothes and did her best to dress Ron in muggle clothing. As hard as she tried, Ron still ended up in his father's pair of brown muggle slacks that were two sizes too big and had to be held up by Hermione's baby blue belt. The only thing that looked a bit normal on him was his maroon sweater with a rather large "R" right in the center. Despite her best efforts to avoid attention by not dressing in wizarding apparel, between Tonks' lime green hair and Ron's newest fashion statement, they still managed to draw the curious eyes of those they passed.

As soon as they reached the archway through The Leaky Cauldron they all went their separate ways. Tonks reminded each of them several times that if they were in trouble to send red sparks into the air and she would return to help. Hermione tried to watch where Ron was headed off to so as not to visit the same shop but he quickly disappeared into the crowd and she lost sight of him.

"C'mon," Ginny said tugging restlessly on her arm, "let's go see Fred and George."

Ginny seemed to know the way already so Hermione stopped watching for Ron and allowed herself to be dragged past the crowd of people making passage through the streets nigh impossible. They soon found themselves outside number ninety-three, Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes, its glowing sign alternately blinking each beautifully scripted word in bright red. The small display window near the shop's entrance held a gallant purple hat with a bright yellow feather and a series of joke books written by a fellow named Blandon Hamrick. The outside looked harmless enough, brick-faced with a flat above, though Hermione knew the two Weasley twins would do anything to prove they were quite the opposite of that assumption.

As they entered through the door, instead of hearing the normal "ding-ding" of a normal shop, a whoopee-cushion sounded their arrival. The entire crowd within the small shop turned and laughed at the two girls as they entered. It was quite full inside, bustling mostly with Hogwarts students but Hermione noted quite a few adults also eagerly combing the displays for items.

Hermione, not really interested in the shop's contents, stood on her toes looking over everybody's heads for George and Fred Weasley. She finally spotted George by the register and Fred trying to sell a Portable Swamp to what looked to be a first year boy.

Fred looked up from his potential sale, saw Hermione, and gave a great wave. After being stood on twice already, Hermione stopped being polite and bullied her way past the mass of kids and adults, finally reaching him.

"Mr. Weasley," she said as she approached him, "selling such contraband! Tut-tut. I'll have to confiscate these all and ten points from Gryffindor." Fred gave a good laugh as the first year ran away apparently believing he had actually been caught doing something wrong.

"I'd like to see you try it, Hermione," Fred said laughing.

"Don't threaten us, Hermione," said George from behind her with Ginny at his side. "You would do well to remember what happened the last time our operations were challenged!"

They laughed at the memory of last year's student/professor/ghost/poltergeist mutiny against Professor Umbridge. Hermione looked at the counter to see George had bewitched it to run on its own.

"Where's Lee? I thought he was supposed to be here helping you," Ginny asked looking around to glare at the people pushing rudely past her to get to the Canary Creams.

"Ah, therein lies a secret," Fred said holding a finger to his lips.

"Ask us no questions and we will tell you no lies," George finished, flashing Fred a warning glance.

A whoopee-cushion sounded through the shop announcing the arrival of more visitors as everybody turned to laugh.

Fred gave a grand bow, "My dearest sister, my favorite prefect, if you will excuse me I really must go sell a Portable Swamp to an unknowing first year." He flashed an evil grin to Hermione as he disappeared into the crowd.

"I'd best not find a swamp at my school again, Fred Weasley!" she yelled back to him only half-joking.

"What do you think that was all about with Lee?" Ginny asked.

"Knowing those two it can't be very legal," she answered eying George suspiciously as he made his way back to the counter.

Hermione quickly pulled Ginny away as a they saw a burst of yellow feathers fly from the corner of her vision. She could hear George's voice yelling over the crowd from the register, "See, that's what you get for sampling! This isn't Honeydukes, you have to take our word those are Canary Creams…."

"Where to now?" Hermione asked once outside and squinting into the bright sunlight.

"How about that Quidditch shop Harry and Ron like so much? We can ask about Krum."

Hermione nodded in agreement. Once inside Quality Quidditch Supplies, Hermione scanned the people inside looking for any sign of red hair. Knowing what Hermione was thinking, Ginny did the same. When they were both satisfied that Ron was definitely not inside, they proceeded to the main counter.

They approached the man behind the counter who had his back to them. Hermione spoke up first, "We need some information on dates and places of Quidditch matches." Without turning around, the man pointed to a sign behind them. "Okay, look for Bulgaria," she directed.

"I can never read these things," Ginny complained.

Hermione had to agree. Not being that big of a Quidditch fan anyway made the sign even more difficult. The writing was small and hard to read and then a few matches that had been listed had disappeared and been replaced by other matches.

"Last minute schedule changes," Ginny explained.

"Oh, I give up," Hermione sighed heavily. "I'm going to just ask him." Turning on her heel, she went back to the counter and smiled brightly. "Excuse me sir, do you know anything about Viktor Krum?"

The man turned slowly to face his questioner, "Hmm?" He scratched at his scraggly white stubble of a beard and pushed his bifocal spectacles back onto his long nose. Hermione asked her question again. "Oh, Krum?" his voice was gruff, like he'd been a Quidditch announcer for far too long. "Bulgarian Seeker… why?"

"Well, we were wondering if you knew were to find him."

The man eyed the two girls suspiciously, his crinkle blue eyes darting between them both.

Hermione noticed his bushy eyebrows scrunched in indecision and added quickly, "We wanted to send him a bit of fan mail and didn't know where to send the owl. We're not familiar with the Quidditch schedule these days." Hermione flashed him an innocent smile while Ginny tried to hide her snigger behind a horribly fake cough.

He looked down at them overtop his spectacles. "Oh, all right. Well, Bulgaria's not in the running for the Quidditch World Cup and Quidditch season is almost over… So I'm going to assume he's at his home just outside Solishta, Bulgaria, training for next year."

"Thank you, sir!" Hermione and Ginny said in unison and promptly left the shop. Standing just outside the doorframe Hermione suggested ice cream so they could sit and write the letter in peace.

Ginny pulled a piece of parchment from her pocket and Hermione fished out the quill and ink she had bought along the way. Ginny listened patiently while Hermione went over again what she had decided during the night while lying awake. She had concluded that the long distance relationship simply would not work and that she was more upset over possibly hurting Viktor than actually breaking up with him. Now that Hermione was accepting the long forbidden truth of her feelings for Ron, she couldn't seem to find the right words for the letter and now sat hovering her ink-filled quill over the blank parchment.

Ginny sat and let Hermione write most of it and gave suggestions when asked. She knew her major role in this was moral support, which Hermione accepted gratefully.

Hermione was stunned at how much better it felt to have someone else know for a change and if Ginny was surprised, she didn't show it in the slightest. In fact, this bit of information seemed to give Ginny the proof she needed to support her case on what she had walked into the middle of on the previous night.

It took quite a while to finish the letter properly, but a full bowl of chocolate ice cream later and a letter ready to be sent, they took it down to post and watched a large barn owl fly off with it clutched in his talons. No turning back now, Hermione took in a deep, hopeful sigh and watched her parchment disappear beyond the tall buildings of Diagon Alley.

Having gotten the hard part out of the way, they were off to find Harry's present. But now on the subject of Harry, it was Ginny's turn to flush three shades of red.

"It's funny, I had always thought it would be you and Harry," Ginny said honestly, looking at a book of famous muggles.

Hermione giggled, "Goodness no. He's my best friend but I've never thought of him like that. You have nothing to worry about on that side of things." She didn't miss the goofy grin plastered on Ginny's face.

"I don't know what to do anymore. I do still like him but I've pretty much gotten used to the idea of just being friends with him. I mean, Ron's just a thick idiot when it comes to figuring out what a girl wants…but Harry's different. He already knows I fancy him."

"I know he does," Hermione agreed and walked out of Flourish & Blotts and into a small sweets shop a few doors down the way.

"I mean he's really nice about it when I trip because I'm looking at him or if I spill the sugar or something silly…he never says anything about it. But I know very well that's just Harry being…Harry…you know, nice. The fact that I've been so bloody obvious and he hasn't done anything about it can only mean one thing, yeah?"

They stopped to look in a glass display case of multi-coloured fudges.

"I don't know, Hermione, like I said I will probably always fancy him but now I just want to be his friend. I'm tired of Ron's teasing, and feeling horribly nervous around a perfectly good guy. I just want to feel normal around him for once instead of this horrible school crush."

"I know what you mean; I've been doing the same thing with Ron since third year. But if it's meant to be, then it will happen. In the meantime, you can't get all worked up whenever he walks into a room because then you trip over your own feet and fall flat on your face."

Ginny couldn't help but laugh because she actually did do that once. "You're right, if it's meant to happen, then it will, in the meantime I'll have lower blood pressure."

"Exactly. Now help me here, which one?" Hermione pointed to a particularly decadant looking bit of chocolate. "The Merriment Chocolates or the Jacob's Fudge?"

After a while, they finally settled on a small box of Merriment Chocolates from Hermione and a small wand servicing kit from Ginny. They had both packages wrapped and put into the same box to make it easier for Hedwig to carry. Enclosed was also a note from the two explaining to use the chocolates sparingly and two birthday cards.

They found Tonks inspecting some cauldrons, met up with her saying they were ready to leave, and told her about the presents they had gotten.

"I wondered why Hedwig was still at the house. Molly tried to give her a letter for Harry but she just would not leave, so Molly let her alone." She continued to inspect the cauldron in her hands. "You know, I think these are the same cauldrons Mundungus lifted last year…see the markings on the sides where they might have hit the ground? Where's Ron?"

"Don't know," Hermione said truthfully.

"We haven't seen him since we split up," added Ginny.

Tonks scowled at this bit of news but hadn't seen any red sparks in the air so she decided it best not to panic for the moment. They decided, instead, just to walk toward the exit and hope to spot him along the way. And spot him they did, about half an hour later looking quite cross by the archway to The Leaky Cauldron, impatiently waiting for them.

Along the way back to number twelve, Grimmauld Place Tonks tried to talk to Ron but he would only grunt in response. A couple of times Hermione and Ginny caught him casting nasty glances in their direction. Hermione looked at Ginny for an answer, but Ginny could only shrug unknowingly. Getting into a cab, the girls chose to talk amongst themselves instead of trying uselessly to include Ron.

"I hope he likes the chocolates," Hermione said uncertainly, trying to ignore Ron's coldness.

"Oh, don't worry about that. I'm sure he'll need every one of them where he is. He'll love them." They heard Ron snort rudely beside Ginny. Ginny flashed him a cross look back.

The cab pulled to the address Tonks had given him, still several blocks away from the house. With Tonks not being very good at muggle money, she let Hermione handle the transaction with the driver.

Not surprisingly, Ron ignored them the rest of the walk back.


	4. The Confrontation

Chapter 4 : The Confrontation

By the next morning, Ron still hadn't said more than two very short and improperly formed sentences to anyone in the house. It was mid-morning, July 30 and Ginny laid in her bed with nothing to do but wait for a reason to move. Though it was still only morning, the gloomy sky cast a depressing greyness across the room and the open window allowed a cool breeze to flutter the worn curtains. Ginny found this fit her mood quite nicely as the rain soaked clouds awaited the signal to saturate the ground below them. Hermione had seemed to feel the need to keep busy by cleaning but Ginny had no desire to clean today. Frankly, she had no desire to do anything but to lay on her bed and daydream about nothing.

Ron's current behavior wasn't helping her mood at all either. He was currently, not only still being silent around her and Hermione, but also being an incredible git. When he did happen to pass by them he would either cast them a dark scowl or ignore them altogether.

She half-heartedly thought of visiting the kitchen for tea but at that moment a large tawny owl flew through the open window and landed on the footboard of her bed. The letter tied to its leg was addressed to a Miss Hermione Granger.

"Oh, Hermione," she said talking to the owl, "she's downstairs. I can take it to her." The owl seemed satisfied with its delivery and held its leg so she could untie the scroll of parchment then took off through the window again.

The writing was small and oddly loopy and Ginny didn't recognize the penmanship but had a good idea who it was from. Ginny nearly tripped over her own feet as she hastily jumped from the bed and tore down a level of stairs as quietly as she could. She found Hermione in the drawing room with a white cloth tied around her nose and mouth, trying to pound the life out of an old, moth eaten sofa. Ginny watched and couldn't help chuckling as Hermione beat it with one of George's old Quidditch clubs, muttering to nobody.

"Stinking thing. I hate this house. I hate the dust. I hate that screaming old hag." Hermione paused while she caught her breath and surveyed her progress. Apparently, she wasn't satisfied because she began beating it harder than ever. Each swing had two to three words put to it, "What did…that cow do?...Put a…permanent sticking…charm on all…the dust in this…horrible house?...._I_…_**hate**_…_this_..._sofa_!" She finished with a fresh wave of thumps and a cry of frustration.

Breathing heavily, Hermione stopped trying to kill the sofa when she saw Ginny laughing in the doorway. "What?" She removed her cloth, "Every time I sit down, I am greeted with a cloud of dust. However, when I try to clean it-- It's as if the sofa replenishes itself from its lost dust! I can't take it anymore! It's like she wanted it to look like we're in the middle of a horror film!"

"Hermione, I gave up weeks ago trying to rid this place of dust. What's an ilm?"

"Never mind. What's that you have?" Hermione asked, indicating the parchment in Ginny's hand, which she handed over immediately.

"It's for you. Krum, isn't it?"

Hermione's face went pale as she took the parchment into her dirty hands. "Yes it is," she replied warily, biting her lower lip. "I don't want to open it. I already know what it says."

"Oh, you do not. Go on, open it."

"Yes, I do. He despises me for being selfish and uncaring." Hermione dramatically flung herself back to the sofa coughing and wheezing, a fresh cloud of dust in the air.

"He wouldn't think that. Hermione, read it!"

"You read it."

"Oh for goodness sake, alright." Ginny took the letter from Hermione's outstretched hand. She cleared her throat and read aloud.

_

* * *

_

My dearest Hermione,

_I received your letter this afternoon. I do not deny that my heart breaks by what you have told me. I wish I could visit you now but you have told me not do so over the summer, which I will respect. I want to talk you out of this or to maybe fight for you (which I know you think is very silly). You are too special a woman to let go this easily. I blame myself for this, for not being there for you. I know you deserve better and I do understand your decision. I truly wish you would reconsider, but that is my own selfish desire talking. However, your happiness is what I want most of all. I know you are not content with our current arrangements, but unfortunately, I have not the power to change them. I will miss you my sweet Hermione but if this is what it takes for you to be happy, then so be it. I, too, wish us to remain friends. If you ever need anything of me, you need only to ask. I sincerely hope this will not be the last time I hear from you. _

_Always yours,_

_Viktor  
_

* * *

When she finished, Ginny only gave a long, low whistle and Hermione stayed silent for several long minutes.

"It's worse than I thought," Hermione said finally in a small voice.

"No it's not--he doesn't hate you. He still wants to be friends."

"I would feel better if he did hate me."

"I didn't realise Viktor fancied you so much. Sure hope Ron doesn't go and screw this up," Ginny looked over the letter again.

"He will," Hermione shrugged her shoulders.

Ginny looked at her in surprise.

"He wouldn't be Ron if he didn't."

Ginny laughed loudly, "Too right."

Following yet another lunch without Ron, everybody seemed fed up with his behavior and no longer attempted to be civil to him. It was now almost suppertime and Ginny and Hermione sat at one end of the long wooden table of the kitchen, waiting to be fed. Mrs. Weasley stood by the fire stirring the stew while Mr. Weasley chopped away at the vegetables. Bill sat at the other end of the table checking his pocket watch every few minutes and George and Fred huddled mysteriously in a corner examining a map of Diagon Alley.

"Ginny dear, go fetch Ron for supper," Mrs. Weasley said breaking the silence.

"Mum, no!" Ginny whined. "I went up there last time."

"Go and don't come back without him this time," Mrs. Weasley demanded, pointing a threatening wooden stirring spoon at her.

Ginny reluctantly agreed but grumbled and pouted all the way up the basement stairs.

Mrs. Weasley returned to the stew mumbling to herself, "I swear that boy is acting so odd these days… Moping around the house…" Several more minutes passed and Ginny still had not returned. The stew had finished cooking and was waiting to be ladled onto plates and Mrs. Weasley was growing impatient. "Hermione, be a dear and see what's taking them so long."

Hermione did as she was asked and silently went up the narrow basement stairs, into the hall, and up the stairs. She was on the second landing when she could hear muffled voices coming from Ron's room. As she drew closer, she could hear Ginny's voice coming through clearly from behind the thick door.

"YOU STUPID GIT! YOU HAVE NO IDEA-"

"COME OFF IT, GINNY. I KNOW YOU'RE A TRAITOR!" Ron shouted. "YOU DIDN'T THINK I'D FIND OUT?"

"YOU'RE EVEN THICKER THAN I THOUGHT, YOU MENTAL PRAT!! I CAN'T BELIEVE I ACTUALLY ENCOURAGED HERMIONE TO GO THROUGH WITH THIS!" Ginny battled back. "YOU ARE SO...SO...... _YOU'RE AN IDIOT!_"

Ginny wrenched open the door to find Hermione listening. Though startled to find Hermione standing there, she was not angry for the eavesdropping.

Instead, she spoke loudly enough for Ron to hear, "Forget every good thing I have ever said about my brother, Hermione. Now I wish you hadn't sent that letter to Krum! He doesn't deserve you. Mental that one is, Hermione. The idiot! Tell Mum I've lost my appetite!" With that said, she took her leave stomping briskly to her own bedroom and closing the door with force.

Hermione entered Ron's room and shut the door quietly behind her.

"Bloody hell, not you too," he stated sharply. He felt satisfied at the shocked look on her face. "Well? Come to have a go, have you?"

"I didn't deserve that, Ron," she was determined to keep her voice steady, even in the anger that was building in the room again.

"No? I can't believe I let myself-- The other night I-- If you like that git so much you can have him!" he stumbled intelligently.

"What are you on about, Ron?" she asked, genuinely puzzled.

"Oh, don't act innocent with me, Hermione! I know all about your stupid letter to Krum, the chocolates you sent to him--you were talking about them in the taxi. And Ginny helping you! I figured it out, Hermione. I don't need you to tell me what's been going on, unless you'd just like to rub it in a little more. Could've been less obvious about it though."

"Well, _obviously_ I do Ronald Weasley! You have no idea what we were up to yesterday!"

"I know you were looking to send a letter to Krum." He mimicked Hermione in a high pitched girly voice, "We wish to send him a bit of fan mail but don't know where to send it."

Hermione gaped at him, horrified. "You were spying on us!"

"I was standing outside the Quidditch shop window and saw you coming down the street. I wanted to talk to you, but not with Ginny there so I lost my nerve and ducked inside the shop. You followed me in and I hid in a corner behind a magazine rack, hoping you wouldn't notice me. I knew you were still together but, Hermione, fan mail?" he said this last bit with disgust in his voice.

"FAN MAIL?" Hermione felt herself involuntarily explode. "IS THAT WHAT YOU THINK OF ME? IS THAT WHY YOU'VE BEEN ACTING LIKE THIS? YOU COULDN'T BE FURTHER FROM THE TRUTH!" Hermione took a deep breath trying to keep her voice from cracking with resentment. She managed to lower her voice level but Ron could still see her eyes boiling, "That was just an excuse, Ron. I had a reason to contact him. But whenever Viktor would write to me, I would just send a letter back with his owl so I never knew exactly where he was because he traveled so much. I had to find him first. _Fan mail_! When have you ever known me to send fan mail to anyone?"

Ron raised an eyebrow in answer.

"Okay, besides Lockhart...which, by the way, was over three years ago?"

He couldn't give an answer because he knew she was, unfortunately for him, right. She wasn't the type to do that sort of gibberish and had learned her lesson with Gilderoy Lockhart in their second year.

She continued, her voice wobbling terribly, "As for the chocolates, they're for Harry's birthday! I was concerned that chocolates wouldn't be a special enough of a present because I'd sent chocolates last year as well. Ginny was reassuring me that with his horrible family around he could always use them. You didn't seem terribly keen to speak to us in the taxi so I saw no reason to inform you of them."

She could see Ron's anger lighten considerably at this new information and he looked at the floor guiltily, but this only fueled her own fury more. She already felt terrible about having possibly hurt Viktor, and now he had the nerve to stand there trying to look sorry for insulting her further after everything she had done for him, as if being sorry should be enough for Hermione to forgive his idiocy.

"Has five years worth of friendship meant nothing to you?" she said, not being able to prevent her voice from shaking out of control. "I knew I was probably fighting a losing battle trying to get you to notice what I'd been putting in front of your face all this time, but I didn't think you were void of _all_ emotion."

Ron could only examine his shoelaces.

Hermione felt nauseatingly horrible but tried her best to suck in her tears and regain at least a little dignity. She kept her voice level and spoke slowly and deliberately, "You've said some horrible things in the past, but I don't think anything quite compares to being called a silly little fangirl twit. And here I was, stupidly thinking that you knew me better than that. I daresay I am glad to finally, after five years, know exactly what you think of me."

When Ron was unable to say anything to prove her wrong, she turned and opened the door but stopped and turned back again. "By the way, Ron, if you really must know what I had written to Viktor then here you go," Hermione removed a piece of parchment that had been folded neatly in the back pocket of her muggle jeans and cast it on the floor to his feet, "there's his reply that you can read. I received it this morning," her voice cracked at this and she could feel a fresh wave of tears threatening to bubble through.

Ron glanced at the parchment on the floor but then returned to his laces.

Before Ron could see her cry, Hermione turned sharply on her heel and ran through the open door and into her own room. She slammed the door behind her hard enough to rattle the walls. Immediately, the shrill, earsplitting cry of Mrs. Black's portrait rang from the hall. Ron winced at the sound of the slamming door, but it was a cowardly reflex reserved more for Hermione's deserved anger than the noise. He heard Mrs. Weasley run up from the basement kitchen to replace the heavy velvet curtain before the old hag woke the other paintings and Ron scrambled down the stairs to help. He struggled to close the curtains that hid the portrait from view as the old woman screamed in his ears about blood traitors and clawed desperately to attack him from beyond her oil brushed surface while his mother bustled around him, stunning the other portraits.

The instant all was quiet again, Mrs. Weasley turned on him and gave him a furious whisper that Ron knew would have been a full-blown shout had they not been in the hall.

"What in the name of Merlin are you doing up there? Why are you slamming doors? We could hear that all the way from the kitchen! You're lucky we're not in a meeting, Ronald Weasley," she waggled an angry index finger at his face.

All Ron could do was look sheepish and say, "Sorry, Mum."

"Supper is waiting," she dropped her hands to her hips. "I've already sent up Hermione and Ginny after you and I expect you downstairs to eat with the rest of us tonight! No more moping, no rude comments... and you will eat something if I have to jinx you and shove it in your mouth myself!"

"Yes ma'am."

"Between you and Hermione sulking around all day long, I'm about to lose my mind and then you go around waking iher/i," she scolded, pointing a finger to the closed velvet curtains that covered Mrs. Black's portrait. "What were you thinking? What is going on up there anyway? Never mind, stew is getting cold and I'm not going to reheat it for you." Mrs. Weasley turned on her heel and silently went back through the hall door to the basement.

Ron headed back upstairs, past Kreacher's dead relatives and into his own room. He saw the folded piece of parchment lying on the floor where Hermione had thrown it--ominously waiting for him to read it. From the way Hermione had reacted to his accusations about her and Krum, it couldn't be good news and he dreaded reading it. He picked it up and sat on his bed, staring at the writing on the outside. Slowly he unfolded it and read what lay inside.

Ron felt his heart stop and his blood run fridged as he read. He was glad he was sitting down; he didn't think his legs would have held him. He reread the letter six times before believing it himself. He wasn't sure what he had expected but it wasn't this. Hermione had dumped Krum?

Ginny's words echoed in his ears. i"I actually encouraged Hermione to go through with this! Now I wish you hadn't sent that letter to Krum! He doesn't deserve you."/i

Was it possible? Had Ginny encouraged Hermione to give Viktor Krum the boot? Had she done it for _him_? Ron didn't know if that part was true, but from the letter he could tell she had definitely broken up with him and that was enough to bring a broad smile to his face.

He now thought he understood what she had meant, though at the time he had been too angry to pay any attention. Ron began mentally filling in the blanks that he had been too upset to recognize before. Slowly, things began to fit in a more logical order as the realisation of what had just happened sank in.

The other night he had meant to tell Hermione how he felt about her but he had no idea she might have feelings back. Now he had probably just ruined the best thing in his life and driven her away from him forever.


	5. Confessions

Chapter 5 : Confessions

Ron began pacing the room muttering randomly to himself, "Oh no, what am I going to do? Ginny's right, I _am_ mental. Total idiot." Ron didn't bother to take notice of his voice rising in volume as well as pitch. "How am I going to fix this? I _can't_ fix this. Ah, what have I done?" He punished himself by thumping his forehead repeatedly with the ball of his hand, "Idiot!"

Ron ended his self-mutilation to hear somebody in the room snickering. "I'd like to see you get out of this one," said a sly male voice from the portrait behind him.

"Oh, shut your face unless you can help me figure out girls." Ron continued to keep his back to the spy in the portrait.

The voice gave a hearty, cold laugh. "One bit of advice little boy, rudeness is your key fault."

Ron whirled around expecting to face the portrait of Phineas Nigellus, Sirius' annoying great-grandfather and a former headmaster of Hogwarts, but instead he found only a blank frame. The old man inside had already left.

Suddenly a great thud sounded against the adjoining wall to his and the girls' room, causing Ron to cry out like a little girl and jump out of his skin. He walked across the room to the area of wall that had made the noise and curiously put a hand to the deteriorated plaster, waiting to see what it would do next. When nothing happened, he shrugged, muttered something about old houses and returned to his pacing.

He had thought the reason she was ignoring him the last few days before the day in Diagon Alley had been because he had done something to make her angry with him--which was not that big of a stretch--or that she had found him out and didn't want to see him. He had gone up to her the other night to confess his secret whether she liked it or not, but Ginny had interrupted him.

He strained his brain to remember what she had said that night. Something about liking somebody that didn't like you back? He had thought she meant Krum, but was it possible that she had meant _him_? Now he couldn't help but wonder how that night would have played out had Ginny not barged in on them.

He stared out the window, absently watching the sun sink behind the incoming dark clouds that turned the room a gloomy dark blue. He tried to remember things she had said to him in the past, turning it over repeatedly in his head, trying to make sense of it all.

After several minutes of aimlessly observing the dark clouds rolling nearer, and still not having an entirely clear picture of what was going on, Ron came to a decision. No matter what she thought of him now, she had to know the truth. Without thinking further, he left his own room to stand in front of Hermione and Ginny's door that was just down the hall. He knocked softly. The noise inside stopped suddenly but the door did not open. He knocked again and waited. He was about to knock a third time when the door opened a bit.

Ginny stuck out her head but she didn't say anything upon seeing Ron standing before her. Instead, she wore an awful scowl that told Ron she was completely willing to hex him if he didn't leave immediately.

"I need to talk to Hermione," Ron answered her unasked question.

"You've done enough talking," came Ginny's icy reply. Ron winced at her cold tone but understood why he was getting this from his own sister. She meant to slam the door on him but he put his shoe in the way to stop it.

"Please, Ginny?"

Ginny glared at him through heated brown eyes. He took this as his cue to move his foot or suffer the gruesome consequences. She promptly closed the door in his face, the thick wood landing just inches from his nose. Ron could hear Ginny and Hermione's voices from behind the door but they were too low a volume for him to hear clearly. Finally, the door cracked open a bit again. He could see Ginny's red hair through the crack, still talking to Hermione in an inaudible voice.

When she came back to Ron she dropped her livid voice to barely a whisper, "I'm warning you, I don't care if you are my brother…" She let her forewarning trail off but Ron nodded that he got the point. Ginny opened the door only enough for her to shove past Ron, who stumbled back a few steps with his sister's obvious display of anger. He took a deep breath before entering after she had gone downstairs out of sight.

~*~

It had been only a short time after Ginny finished declaring Ron to be a mental sod and angrily pounded her way to the bedroom that her and Hermione shared, when Hermione herself suddenly burst through the door and slammed it so hard the walls rattled. They heard the shriek of Mrs. Black, a direct result of the noise, rise through the house but neither of them bothered to attend to the resulting situation.

Instead, Ginny ran to Hermione when she saw her friend's red eyes and wet cheeks and encircled her in a comforting embrace. Hermione was crying harder than ever and sobbed violently into Ginny's shoulder until she eventually began to hiccup. Her sobs eventually ceased when she found humour in the fact that she was hiccupping and parted from Ginny.

Though stress-induced laughter bubbled inside her, she could still feel rage burning within. Hermione felt the sudden urge to kick her Hogwarts trunk, which she did. She immediately regretted it with a yelp and removed her shoe to examine her sore foot.

"Hermione, I am so sorry," Ginny said consolingly, "I never should have—"

She was cut short when Hermione threw the shoe in hand into the wall so hard it left a black rubber mark on the peeling paint. Hermione discovered that, though her un-shoed foot throbbed painfully, she did feel a bit better. "Don't be sorry, Ginny. It's not your fault he's an emotionless git." She began wiping at her tear-stained face, still trying to stop the hiccups.

Hermione sat down on her bed, trying to think of what to do next. It seemed that in only moments every hope she had dared to dream had come violently crashing down to earth in a firey blaze of reality. She buried her head in her hands in attempt to shut out the world, "I give up, Ginny. I can't do this anymore." Ginny sat down beside her and put an arm around Hermione's shoulders attempting to get her to look up.

"You know what the worst part is?" Hermione said, sniffling, "I still love him. God help me, I still love the prat…I just can't handle it anymore."

"I can kill him for you. Pain--lots of pain, I can promise."

This managed to get a small laugh out of her. "No, don't bother. I doubt he'd feel it." Hermione stood up from the bed. "I can't stay here."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ginny frowned.

"You know what I mean," Hermione said, shaking her head. "I'm going away."

"Hermione, you can't!"

"I have to. There's no turning back now." Hermione opened her wardrobe and began pulling out clothes and laying them on the bed beside Ginny. "Ginny, I can't stay here with him in the same house, not after what just happened. Not right now anyway. It hurts too much to know he's right there in the other room actually believing that I'm a silly little moron."

In a near panic, Ginny jumped from the bed and followed Hermione to the wardrobe, "He didn't say that, did he?"

Hermione nodded sadly, "He didn't contradict me when I asked him if that's what he thought of me."

"Then we'll make him leave! He deserves to be thrown out!"

Hermione continued to calmly fold her clothes and put them into her trunk, ignoring Ginny's attempts to pull out everything as it went in.

"What about Mum? You know she won't let you leave. Where would you go anyway?"

Hermione stopped in mid jumper-folding and thought for a moment, "I can go back to my parents. Maybe take a holiday with Viktor--he'd take me back…"

"You know you don't want to go back to him and you'd be living a lie if you did."

"Yeah, I know. And your mum would have a heart attack if I tried to leave here."

A soft knock came to their door. "I bet that's Mum trying to find out what's going on," Ginny stated dryly. She went to answer the door and opened it wide enough to stick her head out, trying keep her mother from finding out that Hermione's clothes had been making their way to the trunk.

Instead of Mrs. Weasley, Hermione heard Ron's voice from behind the door. "I need to talk to Hermione."

"You've done enough talking," was Ginny's icy reply. Hermione watched her try and close the door but was blocked by Ron's shoe.

"Please, Ginny?" came Ron's voice again.

Seconds later, she did close the door in his face and turned to Hermione. "He wants to talk to you. I'm not letting him in. You know my offer still stands to kill him. He's conveniently right outside the door."

"Go ahead and let him through," Hermione agreed with a sigh.

"Hermione, I know how you feel about him but he doesn't deserve a second chance at you. Alright," Ginny opened the door again to half a crack, "I'll let him in but if he hurts you again I won't be held responsible for what happens to him."

"It's okay, Ginny," she urged and shut the wardrobe doors, trying to wipe away traces of tears from her face with her sleeve.

Ron noticed as he walked in that she was wearing only one shoe; the other he found lying along the wall where he had heard the thump. As he looked at the shoe, he also noticed several other articles of clothing strewn across the bed. Hermione's Hogwarts trunk stood open.

Hermione had her back to him, refusing to face him, and she still clenched a red jumper that Ron was sure had been on its way to her open trunk before he walked in.

Ron walked up to her but she still wouldn't turn to face him. She had expelled all her rage in the first round with him and now, neither did she know what else to say to him, nor did she have the strength to have another row. Nevertheless, that didn't change the fact that she was still incredibly furious with him.

"Hermione, I--" He put a hand on her shoulder. Thankfully, she didn't shrug him off. "I'm sorry," his voice was quiet and sincere but Hermione didn't move. He put another hand on her other shoulder. "I'm sorry, Hermione. As usual, you're right. I'm a mental git."

Ignoring her instructions to 'sod off,' he continued, "I was extremely jealous and had no right to jump to conclusions like I did." He spun her around to face him and saw her puffy eyes, red from crying. Ron felt a pang in his chest at knowing he had been the idiot who had caused those tears. He kept both hands on her shoulders, holding onto her tenderly. She was still unable to look him in the eye and Ron unconsciously squeezed her shoulders in attempt to show his sincerity.

Hermione was fully aware of where his hands laid. It was the same warm feeling she had gotten the other night when he had visited her before. She didn't want that feeling anymore and tried to push it back down inside her. Hermione didn't want to confuse the situation more by believing in something that wasn't there.

When she still kept silent Ron continued, "I deserve everything I get but I want you to know how deeply sorry I am. I was being an immature idiot and should've told you how I felt from the beginning. Doubt any of this would've happened if I'd hadn't been such a bloody coward."

She took a thick breath and separated herself from his grasp. She stood with her back against the wardrobe, a good two feet away from him, so that only her left shoulder faced him and she could easily look at the opposite wall instead of him. It wasn't a very interesting wall, covered in stained and peeling flowery paper, but at least it wasn't him. She kept her shaking hands busy by fiddling with her jumper still in hand. "Yes, you were Ron. I didn't realize you thought so little of me," she noticed Ron wince at her words. "It doesn't matter anyway," she said dryly. "Go away." She idly motioned a hand at the closed door.

"No, Hermione, it does matter."

She started to move from the wardrobe to her trunk but Ron stopped her with a hand on her shoulder again.

"Listen to what I have to say, Hermione, please?"

She threw him a withering glance and he removed his hand nervously. He noticed her eyes were now only mildly pink but still filled with the same angry fire as before.

"If you still hate me when I've said my piece I'll understand completely."

Hermione wordlessly threw her sweater on the bed and settled back against the wardrobe doors again, waiting for him to continue.

"I don't always understand you, and most likely never will, but I remembered something you'd said to me the other night about loving someone that didn't love you back. I knew I didn't like the idea of you being with anybody, especially Krum. I didn't understand why I hated the sight of you and Krum dancing at the Yule ball, I hated that you kept in touch with him... All I really knew was that I didn't like you being with him and mostly hated him, period.

"Last year I think I was only beginning to realise _why_ but could never find a way to tell you. Honestly, I was still figuring it out for myself. I'm not as smart as you, it took me a while," he shrugged hopelessly. "The other night I came to tell you, whether you were still with him or not, but then Ginny walked in and that big speech I had planned went to pot. And then this whole thing happened and I already hated Krum 'cos he had you and I guess I sorta latched onto the 'fanmail' idea. S'pose I wanted to think the worst of you so I could give myself a reason to back down from my decision to tell you."

He saw Hermione throw him another withering glare and he added quickly, "I was wrong to have thought you'd do something so flighty but that was my reasoning," and said this tapping his index finger to his temple. "I was giving myself a completely dodgy reason to chicken out. Never know I'm in Gryffindor, yeah?"

Hermione opened her mouth to speak but Ron cut her off, "I'll understand if you hate me. I've been a horrible friend and I can't justify what I said to you, but I need to finish what I meant tell you three nights ago before I lose my courage again."

Ron stepped in front of her so she was staring at is chest again, trying to force her to look up, yet kept enough distance so she didn't feel intimidated. Outside, darkness had completely fallen but as the two candles sitting by the bed had already been lit, they had no problems seeing in the shadowy light. A flash of lightning from the incoming clouds and dose of thundered rumbled over the house, illuminating the room with a momentary white light. He stretched out one hand wanting to touch her again but thought better of it and retracted it slightly. She had pulled away from him twice already and didn't want to force her away more.

Seen in only a brief flash of lightning, Hermione had noticed his hand move as if it couldn't make up its mind on where it should go. Out of pure curiosity, she finally looked up at him, wondering where he was going with this.

He took a deep breath, not really knowing where to start. There was so much he wanted—no, _needed_ to say. "When we were in the Department of Mysteries," he began, "and you got hit, I—I didn't know if you were dead…" his voice wobbled slightly at the memory, and Hermione saw what she thought to be fear cross his eyes as he thought back to that fateful night when so many things went wrong. "You were just lying there unconscious. I'd gotten hit by the laughing jinx and that stupid brain thing and couldn't help you. I felt exactly like I did when I sat by your side when you were petrified by the basilisk, I didn't know what to do.

"I didn't think you'd ever wake up. You were just lying there so helpless, barely breathing. I thought I'd never be able to see you smile again, never be able to hear your laugh. I wanted to stay with you until they dragged you away from me to the Hogwarts hospital wing. I tried to follow but Lupin told me to stay where I was at the Ministry, away from you."

Hermione watched his expression change from fear, to worry, to amusement, and back to worry again as she continued to listen silently.

Ron couldn't stand it any longer and needing to touch her, he put a set of long fingers to her neck, his thumb brushing her cheek. She didn't push him away. "I damned Lupin for taking you away from me, all I did that night was worry. I prayed that you would just _wake up_ so that everything could go back to normal...so that I could have you back again. I'd remembered all the times you'd yelled at me for chewing too loudly while eating, the absolute passion you felt for your books, the way you buttered your toast at breakfast.

"I saw my own life pass before my eyes that night. I saw the first time we'd met on the train and I saw when I'd made fun of you and sent you off crying our first year. I saw how I'd hurt you and almost destroyed our entire friendship over a cat and a rat. I saw you dancing with Viktor Krum and how beautiful and happy you were and how much I despised him for making you happy. I remembered the kiss you gave me before my first quidditch match. Everything we've been through, you've always been there. Then I saw a life without you and realised you _are_ my life, Hermione. I don't think I could bear to live my life without you in it." He glanced quickly at her open trunk behind him and then back to her, "And through my own selfish stupidity I'm afraid I've lost you."

Hermione's thoughts were a blur. She wasn't quite sure of what was happening—could it be true? After all this time—after all of the fear, pain, and friendship. The ignored hints, the unrelenting squirming in her stomach whenever he was near to her. So many years of being out rightly disregarded as being a female by the one boy she so desperately wanted to notice her as more than just a best friend... She had heard his words yet couldn't possibly believe them. Her breath caught and her chest felt strained with the effort to encage her quickly beating heart.

Wordlessly, Hermione stared with wide eyes at Ron, who seemed to be trying to see straight into her soul. She had read those exact words in countless silly muggle romance novels but never really understood their true meaning until now. She felt her eyes involuntarily mist as she saw the intense fire burning in his hazel eyes, almost as if he were trying with a great urgency to plead with her to say something, anything. "What—" she finally managed to croak out and swallowed hard, trying to rid herself of whatever it was that was keeping her from speaking. "What are you saying?"

"I'm trying to say that I love you," he answered quickly, those words having been practiced countless times in front of the mirror. "With all my heart, Hermione, I love you. I don't think I could stand life if you left, I need you here with me. Even if you can't say you love me back— Hermione, I'm so sorry. Forgive me. I don't want you to go away." His eyes plead with hers, searched for some sort of answer.

They stayed like that for the next couple of seconds but it may as well have been several hours as far as Ron was concerned. Hermione's own regularly rational thoughts had been completely discarded, replaced with only thoughts that didn't even make sense to her as she frantically tried to understand. She tried to say something in response but the words just wouldn't form and she knew that she needed to find a way to tell Ron what needed said. And without thinking any further, Hermione stretched out a hand to the nape of Ron's neck and pulled him down to her.

Not really sure of what was happening, Ron followed her movements and allowed himself to be pulled down to her level where he found himself savoring the feeling of Hermione's soft lips on his own. He felt her smile when he pulled away a bit, his nose still brushing her cheek. Not wanting to let go of the feeling of her on his lips, Ron let himself hover above her, savoring the memory, no longer sure if it had been reality or another dream. It had been so gentle and soft, yet so light and exactly what he thought a kiss from his love would be.

Hermione didn't really know what it was she had been expecting, but she knew her head felt lighter than ever and her knees had turned a bit mushy. Ron's hand was still on her cheek and she could feel his hot breath on her skin, their lips only a scant inch apart, his mouth still lingering above her own.

This was her chance, before the moment could disappear and the opportunity would be lost. "I love you, Ron," she managed to finally whisper, "I always have."

As if hearing those words returned to him was some sort of signal to release everything he'd been wanting, Ron seized her in both arms and kissed her passionately. The kiss was slow and hungry and Hermione felt what was left of her insides liquefy as she greedily kissed him back.

Ron had actually expected her to reject him and hadn't thought she would do the opposite. With a heart that felt as if a great burden had been lifted from it, he prayed that he hadn't just imagined what she'd said to him and that this wasn't all just a dream. He prayed with every rational thought that what she'd said was real. She loved him back.

He wasn't exactly sure of what he was doing. He'd never kissed anybody before. He had been aching to kiss her for a so long. It just seemed like the right thing to do at the time, and he was enjoying her immensely.

He wasn't hearing any complaints on Hermione's side either, who was, at the moment, helping to encourage the kiss. Her fingers brushed lightly against the hairs on the back of his neck, unintentionally sending tingles down his spine. In response, he moved one long arm from her back to down around her waist pulling her closer to him, and one hand at the back of her head drawing her into his kisses.

They failed, however, to notice two spies lurking in the now open doorway. Too absorbed in each other to have heard the door creak open or to see the goofy grins on both their spies' faces, too involved to hear the door close again.

As the intensity of the kiss passed, slowly they pulled away catching their breaths. Not wanting to let her go, Ron stole two more breathless kisses before standing straight again. He caught her hand in his, watching their fingers entwine.

He wanted to kiss her again; he could still taste her and wanted another sampling, wanted to savor every moment of her.

Perhaps Hermione read his mind, or perhaps she was only thinking the exact same thing, but knew that if they didn't leave the room now they might never leave. She pulled on the hand connecting her to Ron and crossed the room toward the closed door, reached for the knob with her other hand intending to open the door but Ron caught her hand in his. He spun her to face him and Hermione knew he was about to kiss her again and accepted his advance eagerly.

Still holding her hands in his, Ron backed her against the door and stopped pushing when he felt her bump lightly against it. Towering over her, Ron had to bend awkwardly to lower his lips to hers. Once more, his kiss was passionate, hauntingly slow, and unhurried. Any of Hermione's muscles that had managed to solidify were again subjected to involuntary liquefaction. He let go of her hands and moved them to the back of her head, pulling her into his endless kiss.

Hermione moved her own hands to his biceps and to his side, holding him loosely to her. He allowed a hand to slide down her to her neck, handling her throat with only is fingertips. He felt her sharp intake of breath and felt, more than heard, a breathy moan escape her throat to his fingertips. He was about to pull away, afraid he had hurt her somehow, but instead she tightened her grip on him and her kiss became even more fervent and hungry. It didn't take him long to figure that he had done a good thing and returned her eagerness, pressing his full weight against her.

Ron could feel control slipping quickly away and knew that if he did not stop now he risked being slapped. Fortunately for him, Hermione was first to try to stop them before it was too late. She loosened her grip on him, he took his cue from her and slid his hands down to her upper arms and reluctantly withdrew his lips from hers.

He stood straight, reluctantly pulling away so that he now towered over her again. Ron struggled to get his heart back to its normal pace and return his blood to normal temperature.

"I think we should go downstairs now," she offered.

Still breathing heavily, he swallowed hard. Ron nodded in agreement and laughed, "Good idea."

"Are my eyes still puffy?" she asked him, feeling her face for warm patches that would suggest she had been crying. "I'm not going out there looking puffy."

"If I say you're still puffy does that mean you'll stay up here with me?"

She laughed and slapped his arm playfully. "I'm serious."

"You're beautiful," he said approvingly, brushing a chunk of brown hair from her eyes. He bent down to her again for another sweet kiss.

"C'mon," she said tugging on his sleeve. She opened the door and pulled him with her before he could protest again. Neither Ron nor Hermione noticed she was wearing only one shoe as she walked lopsided down the hallway.

* * *

The End.

A/N: I love reviews! Please leave one!!


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